Wizarding War Three
by wolfergirl
Summary: Just before the beginning of Wizarding War Three, a new prophecy comes to light. How will this generation of Potters, Weasleys and Malfoys respond? Third/fourth generation mainly? R&R please!
1. Prologue

**I don't own anything you recognise**

_When from the seed of two wizards great,_

_Love is defeated once more by hate,_

_The insignificant will become the important,_

_And the important will become the insignificant._

_Be wise, and listen to the foolish,_

_But be foolish, and listen to the wise,_

_Be wary, for in the end,_

_The friend will become foe, and foe the friend._

_This friendship must aid the foes to decide:_

_For neither can live while the other survives._

**Just a prologue, I've never done one before. I hope it was ok? So, as the summary says, this fic is based just before Wizarding War 3, with the grandchildren and great-grandchildren of the Golden Trio and Co. being the main characters. So sort of a fourth generation fic? I've never seen something like it before, personally, but then there's something like half a million HP fics out there... And a new prophecy (as above, written by yours truly) comes to light and threatens the world once more...**

**Yeah, well, I should stop waffling on as I think the AN is slightly longer than the chapter...whoops.**

**Anyway, review as to whether I should continue please! And be warned, the updates will be very random and probably not for ages...**

**~wolfergirl**

"**However, as it is written: "What no eye has seen, what no ear has heard, and what no human mind has conceived"— the things God has prepared for those who love him—" ****1 Corinthians 2:9****NIV**


	2. Chapter 1

**I don't own anything you recognise**

**Chapter 1 – Hogwarts (dedicated to cookiemonster1098 for being the first reviewer and my friend Lauren from school who will probably never read this…)**

"Look, it's the Minister for Magic!"

"Ooh, and James Potter – he's the one who captained the Cannons to victory!"

"Wait, isn't that Fred Potter? And Sirius Lockhart? They own Weasley's Wizard Wheezes!"

The whispers followed the group of ten wizards and witches, accompanied by their various relatives, as they made their way along platform 9 3/4. Two of the group immediately split from their relations and ran towards the scarlet train in front of them. Before they could completely disappear from view, however, they were called back.

"Drew! Ginny! Don't go without saying toodles!" A man in his mid-fifties pushed his way forward and enveloped his grandchildren in a hug.

"Bye Gramps," raven-haired Drew grinned affectionately at the old man, "I'll send you a Hogwarts toilet seat."

"You do that, m'boy, and I'll be even prouder of you than I am already! And Ginny," to the girl, currently with red hair, "congratulations again on making prefect. Make sure you keep your cousins in line."

"Right you are, Gramps. Take care of yourself." As their grandfather smiled at them, they turned and resumed their rush to the train, their parents shaking their heads fondly at the pair. Turning around, James Potter II glimpsed his brother and sister waving off their own grandchildren, whose parents tried to get a word in edgeways.

"Don't believe what Drew tells you about the Sorting, and don't break curfew, even if one of the others tells you to. If you need anything, you can always find Ginny, Auntie Rose, or Uncle Hugo, or Hagrid, or Auntie Dom. And you can owl us any time you like. It doesn't matter to us what House you're in, because we'll love you just the same, and never, ever go into the Restricted Section," a small, rather mousy redhead rattled off in the direction of her 23% apprehensive, 77% excited granddaughter. The young witch was bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet, already in her Hogwarts robes and showing none of the nerves her assortment of cousins had at the beginning of _their_ first years. "Oh, and Amelia, don't get your hopes up about the Quidditch team. First-years rarely get on the teams, and Great Granddad Harry was probably the most recent. And don't do an Arthur and steal Drew's broom, you know how protective he gets. And always try your best in class, even though you've evidently inherited Uncle Hugo's brain and Auntie Rose's work ethic!"

"Yes Grandma," the little girl sighed, rolling her eyes as she bounced. Her cousin Minnie had warned her that Lily Luna Lockhart (née Potter) would be very excited about her first grandchild going to Hogwarts. Minnie had experienced a similar thing with her own grandparents, but in particular Grandpa Albus. Said grandpa was standing with one arm around his sister, the first female Minister for Magic, and the other around Minnie's shoulders as the three posed for a photo. There was a puff of smoke and Peter Creevey, known to his friends as 'Squid', emerged, coughing and spluttering. As he was banged cheerfully on the back, he, along with everyone within earshot said:

"I still haven't got the hang of it!" By now, Squid was something of a legend for his original take on photography. And because he usually blew himself up at the same time.

"All aboard!" A far off voice brought the large family to its senses. Hurried last messages were yelped across the track as young wizards and witches bounded aboard the Hogwarts Express…and a wistful face gazed out the window at the crowds of happy, smiling, waving families, wishing that he might know something like that one day…

* * *

><p>"Excuse me? Do you mind-?" Amelia gestured inside the compartment, where a boy with long blonde locks was hunched, a miserable expression on his face. He shrugged and made room for the first-year. Amelia plonked herself on the opposite seat and immediately struck up conversation – or tried to. "I'm Amelia, Amelia Lockhart. This is my first year at Hogwarts." There was no reply. "But you've already been, haven't you? I saw you last year at the station – and the year before. You're a third-year," she stated triumphantly. The Boy-in-the-Corner jerked his head up incredulously. Someone had noticed him? "My cousin – second cousin, really – is in your year: Minnie Potter?" A non-committal grunt came from the corner. "You don't talk much, do you? What House are you in?"<p>

"Slytherin," came the blunt reply.

"Oh. I don't think I know anyone in Slytherin. Do you play Quidditch?" Silence. "Well, you could at least tell me your name?" The boy muttered something to himself. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch that," his companion said brightly.

He cleared his throat. "Malfoy."

"Oh?" She looked interested. "Which one?"

He glared at her suspiciously before answering. "Draco. The Younger. It seems my family hates me." At the girl's quizzical expression he sighed, and explained the long story of their predecessors, enjoying his captive audience and finding that for all his family's prejudices, the Potters (and extended family) were actually very pleasant people.

* * *

><p>Eventually Amelia left the compartment briefly to allow Draco to change into his robes (after which she gazed enviously at his green and silver additions) and they sat in silence, waiting for the train to slow down. As they pulled into the station, Draco stood up abruptly, muttered some excuse under his breath and ran out the door. Slightly crestfallen, Amelia collected her own stuff together and went in search for her favourite giant, Hagrid.<p>

"Firs' years this way!" he boomed, then look down with affection at the miniature hurricane rushing towards him. "All righ' Millie?"

"Uh-huh, how're you Hagrid?"

"All th' better fer seeing yeh," he beamed. Soon, the crowd of eleven year olds was ushered towards the lake, were they piled, as was tradition, in to the many boats waiting for them. Gasps went round the group at the sight of the star-lit castle framed by the forest beneath it, birds swooping round the towers and fireworks – courtesy of WWW – lighting up the lake. Amelia watched the train of lights bobbing along the path towards Hogwarts and tugged on Hagrid's coat.

"C'mon, I wanna get inside!" With a throaty chuckle, Hagrid brought the awe-struck first-years back to their senses and lead the way into the castle. Amelia gazed at the staircases she had heard so much about, and listened to the chatter of voices in the Great Hall where her cousins were no doubt happily talking to their friends again…then came the niggly panic at the back of her mind. What if she wasn't sorted? What if she sat there for so long without the Sorting Hat – by now a veteran Potter-Weasley Sorting Hat – calling anything out? And she was told there had been a mistake and she better get the first train home? Her knees knocked just thinking about it. Her thoughts and knee-knocking were interrupted however by a tall hooded figure gliding towards her. The group of eleven year olds fell silent, as they watched it come to a halt at the top of the staircase. With one fluid motion it threw its hood off and winked at the nervous students.

"Good evening everyone! I am Professor Griffiths, Deputy Headmaster of Hogwarts, Head of Ravenclaw House and Professor of Charms. In a moment I shall take you through to the Great Hall where you shall be sorted. There are four Houses: Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, and Slytherin. While you are at Hogwarts, your Housemates will become your family, and your House will become your pride. You will be awarded House points for any action deserving, while your rule breaking will lose you points. I wish you the very best of luck, and off we go!"

They were herded into the Great Hall, where row upon row of Hogwarts students sat, each cheering as the first-years walked past. The ceiling was charmed as always, displaying a new set of moving frescoes painted after the War that depicted the Battle of Hogwarts and the moments of celebration after. At the end of the long aisle was someone Amelia knew very well indeed. Hugo Weasley, Headmaster of Hogwarts, Order of Merlin Second Class, Supreme Mugwump, author of _The Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration _and Great Uncle to Amelia was stood behind the lectern in his favourite orange robes, beaming out at the crowd below. The first-years filed in silently and waited with bated breath for the man in front of them to speak. However, when they heard a voice, it came not from the red-haired man but from a tattered wizard's hat perched on a tiny stool. Beautiful, but slightly tinny, notes came out of the brim as it burst into song, panting slightly at the end. Led by Hagrid, the rest of the Hall gave the Hat a standing ovation, and Amelia couldn't help wonder how old the Hat was. If it had sorted her parents, and her parents' parents, and her parents' parents' parents, and so on, it must be ancient…

"Lockhart, Amelia!" A tall, blonde wizard called her name out, shaking her from her daydream. Amelia tottered up the steps and carefully placed the Hat on her head.

"Ah, a Potter," the Hat crooned.

"No, Mister Hat, I'm a Lockhart," she thought. She heard a chuckle and looked around, confused.

"But you are so much more a Potter, my dear – all of you are, no matter who your parents marry."

"So I'm a Gryffindor?" Disappointment tinged her thoughts.

"A Potter-"

"Lockhart," she interjected.

"-not want to be in Godric's House? Is the world coming to an end?" the Hat cried.

Amelia stifled a giggle. "I just want to be different. And anyway, not _all_ my family's in Gryffindor, and I don't want to be in a House just because my family want me to be there. I want to be placed somewhere because it's _me_. It's _my_ sorting after all. Not theirs." As her little rant came to an end, she pushed the brim of the hat up and looked out into the hall. Her crowd of cousins, mainly at the Gryffindor table, true, were watching her expectantly, poised to burst into applause as she joined them. For some reason, the sight made her feel sick. She _wouldn't_ be 'just another Gryffindor'. She was going to carve her own image into the school, and show the world that she wasn't just another Potter-Weasley grandchild, but her own person.

"Interesting. Ambition," the Hat's voice came, "only Harry and Percy had that, or at least only they had enough of it for me to consider putting them in Slytherin." Slytherin? Amelia let out a mental gasp. No one from their family had been put in Slytherin. _Ever_. "I think it's either Slytherin or Hufflepuff. You choose." In that instant, Amelia made up her mind. How else to stand out from the crowd and be her own person?

"Slytherin. Please." She felt the Hat bob on her head, as though nodding.

"Very well. SLYTHERIN!" Placing the Hat back on the stool, Amelia risked a glance at the Gryffindor table where her cousins were looking astounded. The rest of the hall was silent until she made her way over to the table adorned in silver and green. This table began to clap and cheer just as they had for the other first-years who had joined their House, and Amelia felt herself beam in response. She had done it. She _was_ different. She had been accepted. This was her new home.

* * *

><p>Draco Malfoy (The Younger) never paid much attention to the Sortings. He clapped when his neighbours did, cheered when they cheered. He was seated in the middle of the table with the rest of the third-years. He didn't sit with his friends. Draco Malfoy did not have friends. A Malfoy only had acquaintances. Only as Amelia practically skipped towards the table did he look up. There was a shuffle beside him and he turned to see the enthusiastic eleven year old beaming up at his blank face. He resisted the temptation to slam his head on the table and gave her an awkward smile. What had he got himself in to?<p>

**Um, hello? Anyone there? I am so so sorry for the lengthy wait. Life has kind of taken over, y'know? Exams and such… I know no excuses will make it up, so how about the longest chapter I've ever written? Thank you all for the reviews, they really made my day :)**

**Just in case you were wondering, or hadn't picked it up, Amelia is Teddy Lockhart's daughter, who is Lily Lockhart (née Potter)'s son, who is Harry's daughter. If anyone wants the whole caboodle of family trees and such, leave a request in your review (hint hint), although I probably don't deserve any reviews… And this isn't a Rose or Albus is in Slytherin fic, and it's not ScoRose, just to clarify. While I ship ScoRose with all my heart, it just wouldn't work for this particular plot...**

**On a different subject, anyone watching the Jubilee Pageant on Sunday? If you do, watch out for the girl sitting stroke in boat 52 of the diamond formation at the front under the Malawi flag. That's me!**

**God Bless,**

**~wolfergirl**

**Today's Bible verse: ****"However, I consider my life worth nothing to me; my only aim is to finish the race and complete the task the Lord Jesus has given me—the task of testifying to the good news of God's grace." Acts 20:24 NIV**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey everyone *scratches head awkwardly* um, I'm really sorry for not having updated recently. There isn't really an excuse except that the plot bunnies have started hibernating… I've also found it easier recently to write one-shots, so until the plot of WW3 returns in full force (which may be soon, or in the next decade) I'm going to take a bit of a break from this fic. It usually drives me mad when authors do this *hangs head* but I can now see why they do. Feel free to lecture me, I know I deserve it.**

**See ya**

**~wolfergirl**


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